


While You Were Away

by ajeepandleather



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff, Loose and Wild Car Fixes, M/M, Mechanic Derek Hale, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Canon, and words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-29 01:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18297965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajeepandleather/pseuds/ajeepandleather
Summary: Derek doesn't know how to say 'thank you for not suing my beta for battery' so he replaces the Jeep's battery instead.





	While You Were Away

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this lil gifset and tags as seen on [Tumblr](http://smowkie.tumblr.com/post/180593622326). I couldn't not, okay?

“Shit!” Derek’s head snaps up from his work and looks around for the source of the noise. He listens intently and hears the thud of feet on the stairs and the scrambling of Stiles inside the house, but what really gets him is the rattle of keys. He curses internally and looks down at the new starter in his hand, nowhere near being installed and huffs. He stuffs the car part in his tool bag and picks everything up, closing the hood as quietly as he can all while Stiles’ frantic heartbeat tells him to  _ hurry the fuck up _ .

 

Derek leaps over the hedge at the edge of the Stilinski’s yard and ducks behind it. He hears Stiles dial someone and open his Jeep. 

 

“Yeah, Scotty, sorry I forgot. I have that report for Harris that I never finished- Yeah, I know, but it’s dumb and I didn’t want to.” Derek rolls his eyes. Stiles probably could have done the assignment in less than thirty minutes if he just sat down to do it but chose not to. He listens as Stiles turns the key, Jeep whining pitifully without the replacement starter in place and Scott squeaking over the phone. 

 

“No, no, no!” Stiles whines in a strange mimicry of the Jeep. “Yeah, Scotty, I - I know dude but the Jeep -” Stiles listens for a moment before responding, “Yeah, let me go get my bike. I’ll be there in twenty, promise.” 

 

Derek stays behind his hedge and waits, listening to the sound of Stiles hanging up before getting out of the car. He closes the Jeep gently and locks it before going back into the house. Derek hears him tread through the house and then the sound of a sliding glass door open and close. He tracks Stiles through the backyard when it occurs to him. Looking behind himself he finds a wooden fence with a gate and realizes very quickly this is the Stilinski’s gate. 

 

He curses and grabs his bag, launching himself over the hedge and rushes to the otherside of the house, while he hears the gate squeak open and the gentle clicks of a bike being rolled out. Pressed against the side of the house he listens as Stiles grumbles about tire pressure and rides away in the opposite direction. Derek lets out a relieved breath and waits a few minutes to make sure Stiles doesn’t spontaneously return before coming out from his hiding spot. 

 

He makes quick work of putting the new starter in and doesn’t stick around once it’s bolted back in place. He wipes his hands down the front of his shirt, not caring about the one of many white tank tops he owns. He closes the lid and makes a beeline for his Camaro parked further down the street, thankfully also in the opposite direction of where Stiles went. He climbs in and sits for a moment and ignores the Stiles-like voice in his head saying he’s being a creeper and that a simple “thank you” would be better than being so socially inept. 

 

He tells himself it’s only fair as he starts his own car and starts to drive away. He hadn’t intended for Erica to be so  _ excessive _ in how she handled keeping Stiles occupied. He didn’t even know what she did until over a week later when he spotted the molted blue and purple bruise on Stiles’ forehead and had his beta explain. The next day Derek went to the part store and bought 

a replacement and told himself he would replace Stiles’ old one as a thank you. Well, a  _ thank you for not suing my beta for assault and battery _ . 

 

He rolls up to the train depot and tells himself that he should really work on not hearing Stiles voice in his head. 

 

“Yo, Sourwolf!” Derek ignores the voice at first, eyes down to try and save a couple wrenches from falling out of an open pocket of his tool bag but the voice becomes unavoidable when it is attached to a very real and solid Stiles Stilinski in front of him. 

 

“Stiles.”

 

“You Derek, I Stiles,” Stiles doesn’t miss a beat to make fun of him, talking slow and overworking the muscles of his lips to exaggerate. Derek just rolls his eyes and pushes past the human to walk down the stairs to the train depot. He finds Isaac lounging on a row of train seats and raises his eyebrows as if to ask ‘why is he here?’. The beta just shrugs and looks back to a magazine he’s reading effectively responding ‘hell if I know’. 

 

“What do you want?”

 

“To know whoever pays you enough to work on their car,” Stiles says easily, following closely behind him until Derek turns around to glare him down. Stiles’ eyes drop down and look over the grease marks running down the fabric that clings to his stomach. 

 

“No one.” It’s not a lie but Isaac has perked up with a the strange topic and looks on curiously. 

 

“Whatever, dude. I just need to know if you’ve seen the news lately.” Derek takes a pointed look around the depot before turning his gaze back to Stiles, raising an eyebrow slowly. Stiles looks around before rolling his eyes, “Okay, caveman, might want to mark down a TV as a necessity. Or a laptop. Maybe even just a phone with internet access.”

 

“Stiles-”

 

“Yeah, yeah. So, I saw this thing on the 5 o’clock about there being a spike in missing people on the west end of the Preserve and my dad won’t talk about it so I thought you might wanna know so you could do some like wolfy reconnaissance.” Derek thought about that and the singular running shoe he found on one of the backwoods trails he runs this morning. 

 

“I’ll look into it.” He concedes after a long, quiet moment. Stiles nods, shoulders dropping like he was prepared for more of a fight and maybe Derek should have. He’s going soft it seems, secure with his betas and his uncle dealt with. 

 

“Thanks, gotta blast.” And with that, Stiles is running back up the stairs and Derek listens as he mounts his bike and heads off. Derek shakes his head and ignores the lingering scent of the human as he goes to put his tools away. 

 

“So, what did you do tonight?” Isaac asks, watching over Derek’s shoulder. He won’t admit that the kid startled him but his wolf took pride in his beta being so good in stealth with all the training they had done recently.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Mmhmm.” Derek growls and Isaac drops it. Hopefully his sense of smell isn’t as good as his silent steps so that he can’t smell the distinct scent of Stiles’ Jeep - burning oil, the slightly melted rubber of his fan belt and the brake line that was leaking.

 

***

 

The next time he fixes the Jeep, it’s more for his own sake than Stiles. Really. It is. That fan belt was grating on his nerves, it was loose and made a horrible squeaking noise whenever he was within a half mile radius and it was  _ horrible _ . 

 

He has to wait until the next week to do something about it though, having to order and wait for the part all while having to listen to that fan shake and rattle in the Jeep’s chassis. When the belt comes in the mail he had a flashback to being a teenager and altercations with his nosey sister with Isaac hovering over his shoulder. 

 

“That’s for me!” He says, just a bit of panic seeping into his tone with Isaac’s hand hovering to open the brown box he handed him from the mailbox he rents at the Post Office. 

 

“Okay,” Isaac says, drawing out the sound while handing over the box. 

 

“It’s nothing important. Just a car part,” Derek assures, ignoring the lack of convincing that seems to be happening.

 

“Didn’t know anything was wrong with the Camaro.”

 

“Nothing’s wrong with the Camaro,” Derek says, not a lie but his tone doesn’t leave it open for discussion. Isaac just shrugs and continues on, leading the way back to the car so Derek can take him to school.

 

Once he drops off his beta and spends some time catching up with Erica and Boyd, it’s a simple waiting game. As the betas walk away, talking and shoving each other around, Derek gets into the Camaro and waits for the tardy bell to ring. He takes his time opening the package and grabbing the small tool bag hidden in the backseat. Once he’s sure even the late comers have gone inside he gets out and makes his way to the baby blue Jeep two rows up.

 

He tries not to look suspicious as he glances around and pops the hood. He keeps his ears open as he starts in on the engine compartment, working to get at the old fan belt. It’s grimey work, there’s grease just about everywhere and it starts to annoy Derek the more he feels it spread across his skin. Honestly, one might think that whoever was working on the thing would give it at least a cursory wipe down every now and then while they worked. Derek added ‘rags’ to the mental list of things the Jeep needed and to find a time to do some cleaning.

 

Derek slowly loses himself in the work. He likes the warmth of the sun across his shoulders and the slight strain in his forearm as he turns the stubborn bolts. Of course that means he’s not quite as vigilante as he should be for someone doing secretive car work on a car he does not own. 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Derek’s head whips around so quickly both he and Scott wince with the cracking noise it makes as he moves. Scott is standing there looking confused, eyes narrowed with a set of keys in his right hand. It has a familiar blue skateboard attached to the ring.

 

“Why aren’t you in class?” Derek glares at Scott, not flashing his eyes but trying to put enough command in his voice to get the estranged beta to leave. Of course, nothing involving Scott is that easy.

 

“Are you sabotaging Stiles’ car?” Now Scott sounds angry and defensive. His eyes flash gold as his fangs drop. Derek feels his wolf rear up and his eyes flash in response, growling as he squares his shoulders. 

 

“Of course not.”

 

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Scott spits out, still partially shifted. “You’ve been known to do worse.” That stings, the ache crawling up into his throat and all the emotions he has spent so much time tamping down because he had to move on. But Scott is here and he’s angry and worried for his friend and Derek can’t hash that out right now. 

 

“I was exonerated after you  _ falsely _ accused me.” Scott rolls his eyes.

 

“What else am I supposed to think?” He asks, still shifted and still very much in public. Derek spots some students playing hooky over Scott’s shoulder and realizes this could get messy soon and he should  _ pull your head out of your ass and wrap this pissing contest up. _ He would have to worry about why his inner advisor sounds like both Laura and Stiles another time. Or never. 

 

“I’m fixing it,” Derek tells the teen as he concentrates on pulling the wolf back, feeling his fangs recede.

 

“What?” Scott startles out of the shift and Derek resists the urge to roll his eyes.

 

“This Jeep is a rolling trash heap and this fan belt,” Derek gestures to where his hand is still buried in the engine with the wrench in his other hand, “was so annoying I -”

 

“Was gonna go on a murder spree?” Scott smirks and crosses his arms over his chest as Derek glares and growls to communicate how not funny that was.

 

“Where does he go to get his stuff fixed? He’s always complaining about the cost but this doesn’t look like he spends a dime on it.” Scott looks down into the engine compartment and shrugs. 

 

“He used to go to Tony’s on Berry St. but he broke his hands in a kanima uh,  . . . accident,” Scott tells him, taking the wrench from Derek when it proves to be in his way. 

 

“He needs a new mechanic then because half of this is ready to fall apart in a decent breeze.”

 

“Are you offering?”

 

“No,” Scott lifts his eyebrows at Derek’s lightning quick response, gaze flicking to where Derek still has his hands in the Jeeps’ engine compartment judgingly. Derek resists the urge to moves his hands like a child caught with his hands in the cookie jar. 

 

“I guess that means Stiles has no idea what you’re doing?” Derek doesn’t look up from his work replacing the fan belt he just removed with the new one he bought. 

 

“He didn’t notice the starter?”

 

“You did that?” Derek shrugs, taking the wrench back to secure the belt in place. “Nah, he doesn’t have a lot of time to notice those kinds of things. If it’s going right he doesn’t really waste energy thinking about it ‘cause there’s so much going wrong these days.”

 

Derek huffs, “Well, he needs to be more careful. If he insists on running around chasing after monsters he needs to be able to run away, too.” Derek looks up to hand the wrench back to Scott and gesture for his bag of tools near the beta’s feet but is stopped by his gaze. It’s a thoughtful look that makes Derek feel like he’s exposing something he didn’t even realize he was holding close to his chest. 

 

“I just came for my textbook,” Scott says, finally breaking the odd silence. He opens the Jeep’s passenger door and digs around before pulling back out with a biology book. “But you should know his battery is dying. My mom had to give him a jump this morning.” With that, Scott’s turned around and leaving but not before pushing the tool bag closer to Derek’s feet as he leaves. 

 

***

 

Derek goes to the part store that day after running into Scott, finding the brand and type of battery that he had seen in Stiles’ Jeep. He furrows his brows as he scans similar options and comes to realize that the battery was the cheapest among them. The battery in Stiles’ Jeep had no warranty and was obviously some crappy knock off of another brand nearby. 

 

“Can I help with anything?”A teenager in khaki pants and a nametag reading “Kyle”. 

 

“Yeah, which battery would work best for a daily driver? With a good warranty?” Derek asked, not willing to really stand around and breathe in the tire fumes and gear grease if he didn’t have to.

 

“Oh sure! We have this one with a 2 year or 35,000 miles warranty from EverStart. It’s what a lot of people choose, and a lot of companies like it and put it in their vehicles.”

 

“I’ll take it,” Derek nods, grabbing the battery off the shelf. 

 

“I’m guessing you’ve never had to change your battery yourself?” Kyle asks, not unkindly as he rounds the check out counter.

 

“I’m helping a friend,” Derek tells him, putting the battery down and pulling out his wallet.

 

“That’s pretty cool of you. I’m trying to help my girlfriend with her brakes but she says she wants the guys at her shop to do it,” Kyle rolls his eyes as if he and Derek are sharing in a funny secret, “I might just have to do it in the middle of the night.”

 

Derek stops for a moment, pausing with his hand still outstretched even after Kyle has taken his card. He’s caught with a thought of he and Stiles sitting around, arguing about taking the Jeep to the shop. Maybe they’re sitting on the couch in the loft and Derek has his arms around the boy’s shoulders and maybe there’s a movie on in front of them. 

 

“$76.34 is your total and here’s a coupon for a free oil change kit with your next purchase of oil.” Kyle smiles as he hands back the credit card. Derek shakes his head loose of the wayward thought and takes back the card and leaves without another word. 

 

Now to find a time to replace the battery before Stiles tries to use the Jeep again.

 

***

Over the weeks and months Derek replaces and repairs more and more of the Jeep. He replaces the three missing tire bolts and gets a new radiator cap when he sees it’s just a t-shirt rubberbanded into the the hole. He replaces some wire under the dash so that the left indicator works and that the headlights are no longer operated by the windshield wiper switch. 

 

Every time he tells himself it’s the least he could do. Stiles proves himself as a valuable member of this bastardized version of a pack that Derek has built for himself and of course a good alpha would replace an entire tire while he’s in class. It’s oddly therapeutic to take the time and pull apart the Jeep and put it back together, to know he’s doing something good with his hands. 

 

But things get bad. The Alpha Pack comes and wreaks the kind of havoc Derek doesn’t believe he can come back from. He loses everyone, everything he built. Everything but Stiles. 

 

Stiles is there but then he’s gone. He’s not Stiles but a monster wearing a beloved faced and Derek loses everything all over again. 

 

Then there’s Kate. Kate and everything horrible thing she brings with her and Derek can’t be here anymore. He has to leave, put distance between himself and the hellmouth than is his hometown. He leaves and only looks back to see Stiles staring already and all Derek can do is smile and hope that explains every promise Derek intends to keep. 

 

He will come back. He will come back for Stiles.

 

***

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you eventually?” Derek lifts his head from under the hood of the truck he’s elbow deep in at the sound of a familiar voice. “Redding isn’t that far from Beacon Hills.”

 

Derek pauses and thinks about what that voice means to him. The comfort and safety of a well guarded home, the warmth of a good and solid hug. It’s a hand on your shoulder and someone who stands by your side in the battles you face. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, taking in the scent that floats over to him with the breeze coming through the open shop door. 

 

“I was never really hiding, Stiles.”

 

“Pfft, right. And yet you couldn’t dare text me to say you were forty minutes outside of Beacon Hills?” Derek turns and finds a very different Stiles just ten feet away. 

 

He’s taller now and his hair isn’t gelled up. There’s a simple green sweater over his shoulders, a Henley of all things and his jeans fit nicely over his hips. His eyes are brighter than he remembers and for a moment he wonders if they might be beta gold, but knows it’s just the sunshine filtering through the dirty shop windows. Stiles had filled out, grown into his body more and put on some muscle weight. He looks healthy and strong, more sure of his skin. 

 

“I knew you’d find me eventually,” Derek shrugs as he pulls his hands out of the truck and uses a rag from his back pocket to wipe off his hands. He’s got grease on his wrists and there’s bound to be a smear across his face somewhere and he’s sweated in the tank top he’s wearing with his uniform shirt tossed to the side. The small wrenches in his pocket rattle as he takes a few steps in Stiles’ direction. The boy, no - the man is frowning and Derek watches his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. 

 

“You know, when you left, it wasn’t easy.” Stiles looks him in the eye as Derek approaches slowly. He crosses his arms over his chest as he continues, “We had Dread Doctors and chimeras and the Hunt and, and just a lot of bad shit.”

 

Derek opens his mouth to cut in, the guilt already pounding away in his chest telling him he should have been there. But Stiles talks over the sound. 

 

“And on top of it all, Roscoe started acting up,” Stiles looks down at his shoes, quietly adding, “And wasn’t ever magically fixed the next morning.”

 

Derek stops in his tracks as Stiles looks back up at him, eyes soft and open. Derek never thought of what it could be like if Stiles found out, never let the idea cross his mind because he was so good at sneaking around him. He watches Stiles press his lips together but there’s something fond there, fond and easy and Derek thinks he’d like to drown himself in it.

 

“So, you noticed?” he asks, quitely. 

 

“Not at first. I didn’t realize until you left and Roscoe kept falling apart.” Stiles steps forward, tentative but almost like a magnet to Derek as he talks. “I used to think it was just the universe dropping one more bad thing on me because if it’s going to rain in Beacon Hills, it’ll pour. Scott had to tell me.”

 

“I’m sorry-”

 

“Don’t be,” Stiles shakes his head, now just a couple feet away. “I’m- I guess I just wanted to say thank you.”

 

“You don’t need to thank me, I was doing it to thank you.”

 

“What?”

 

Derek shrugs, looking down at his scuffed work boots. “I felt bad that I kept dragging you into things and you kept getting hurt and things weren’t easy on you so I thought I could help.”

 

“You utterly inept idiot,” Derek’s gaze snaps up to where Stiles is laughing and tries to understand. “You could have just said ‘thank you’?” Stiles has to gasp for breath but he reaches out to hold himself up on Derek’s shoulder and Derek tenses up. Stiles reels back, instantly sobered and pulling his hand away.

 

“No, I-” Derek grabs Stiles’ retreating hand and pulls it back to himself. He doesn’t quite know what to do with it now that he has it but he can’t just let go so he hold Stiles’ hand and tries not to squirm. “I didn’t know  _ how _ , Stiles.”

 

He looks up at the human and finds wide eyes and that rosy blush high on his cheeks and down his neck.The rabbit quick heartbeat thundering away like an echo of Derek’s and his scent a cocktail of things Derek can’t even begin to decipher. 

 

“You were always doing  _ so much _ for me and I didn’t have anyone like that anymore,” Stiles tightens his grip, really participating in this awkward little hand hold for the first time and encouraging Derek to continue. “I was so wrapped up in the idea of power and not wanting to need anyone that by the time I pulled my head out of my ass and realized it was okay, that I  _ wanted  _  your help, I thought it was too late so I just kept doing it.”

 

“And then you left,” Stiles adds, voice low.

 

“I left,” Derek nods, agreeing even though remembering that day in Mexico is still hard. “I left and I learned about myself and figured out how to cope and rebuild and- and now I’m back.”

 

“And you decided to just not tell me you were back and owned and auto shop?” Stiles asks, eyebrow ticked up. 

 

“How do you know I- nevermind, of course you know,” Derek laughs before looking back to Stiles, attempting to share a smile. “I was going to tell you, I wanted to let the pack know I was here but I thought I would need more time. I should have known you would find me first.”

 

“Damn right,” Stiles mutters, but he’s smiling now as well. 

 

“You always knew better than me,” Derek adds, softly, eyes on their hands. 

 

“Still do, it seems, hmm.” The corner of Stiles’ mouth lifts in a little smirk but his eyes are soft and kind and Derek never really stopped missing this. “This is a moment, right? I’m not imagining things?”

 

“I’m not sure it’s a moment if you call it a moment,” Derek huffs, lifting his eyebrow and causing Stiles to roll his eyes. 

 

“Come on, this is totally a moment! It’s just like that one movie with Amy Adams and that really sassy Irish dude with the beard and the eyes -” Derek presses his lips together to suppress a laugh as Stiles’ gaze freezes over Derek’s cheekbone and he rambles on and on, “and the accent- oh my god, Derek, he’s a skinny, Irish you!” His gaze snaps back up to Derek’s, blinking a few times as he comes back to here and now. 

 

“I missed you,” Derek says, soft but confident, sure in his words. He had learned over time that he didn’t need to talk often, just say the things he really meant. And he meant those words, he meant them after years of aching for him, Stiles was here and tall and just as bright as before and Derek missed him.

 

“I missed you, too, big guy.” Stiles squeezes his hand again, eyes flicking down to Derek’s lips and licking his own. “So, about that moment-”

 

Derek swoops down and covers Stiles’ mouth with his own, giving it time to adjust and get good. Stiles tips his head to the side and wedges his bottom lip between Derek’s, sighing as Derek’s arms come around his waist. Stiles’ hands slide up Derek’s forearms as Derek moves, slipping them up his biceps and around the back of his neck. His fingers run through the soft, short hairs at the base of his skull while Derek pulls back to breathe and rest his forehead against Stiles’.

 

“Yes, Stiles. We’re having a moment.”

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [Tumblr](http://ajeepandleather.tumblr.com)


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